Broken Little Pieces
by Inscriber
Summary: There's a clear distinction between good and evil; or at least there's supposed to be. There was, until someone smeared the lines. Megan deals with the consequences of her actions, and now has to bear the brunt of what she has done.


**Broken Little Pieces**

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It's supposed to be simple – good and bad. How easy it is, though, to smear that line, to create an area of gray so wide and vast that it swallows whatever illusion of stability there ever was. How easy it is to watch the world burn and scream – how hard it is to decipher whether or not the screams are your own. Even harder though, is to look into the abyss of the unknown and see clearly where you stand; even more importantly, where the people you trust stand. What could be more difficult than sorting through actions and determining just which side of the line they landed? Especially when things weren't always as they seemed.

Megan stared into the unknown, into the gray, and screamed – yelled into the confines of her own mind just to hear the pain and know it was not only hers, but the agony of her former leader as well. She wanted to apologize, to make someone understand, to let the world know it'd been a _mistake_; it was so _easy_ to make a mistake.

Aqualad had been more than a leader – he'd been a brother, had held her hand and explained a world to her that he himself had not fully understood. He'd been a rock, an endless ocean of stability – it'd hurt so bad to watch his pain corrupt him. It'd been so confusing to watch him slowly turn into a stranger, to see him transform from friend to foe. Yet, she hadn't allowed herself to hate him, to despise him – Megan had tried so _hard_ to keep in mind that somewhere beneath the rage and fury, there was still Aqualad ; she had felt it rolling underneath his thoughts, a small vestige trapped within his mind. It'd given her hope for him – until he'd murdered Artemis. Watching his blade dive so deep into the archer's stomach had lit a fire inside of her; this was a fire that Megan welcomed though, nurturing the flame with tender care, allowing it to grow inside her heart so that when the time for vengeance brought itself to light, she would be prepared to unleash all of her pain and make it Aqualad's own.

When she'd seen him on that ship, the line between good and evil had never been so clear, so distinct. It'd never been so obvious where the line was drawn; her former leader was a _monster_, a _murderer_, and she was an avenging angel coming to rebalance the scales of justice. At that moment, she'd forced herself into his unprepared mind, and she'd reveled in the slow horror that'd gripped his thoughts as he realized her presence. He hadn't fully understood though, how much damage she intended to inflict. With an almost demented pleasure, she'd ripped down his mental defenses, ravaging his every thought until the only coherence was his bundle of confused and fearful emotions.

Megan has felt gratified, felt justified, vindicated – until she felt dying memories explode from Aqualad's consciousness and into hers, right as she dealt the final blow to his failing mind. The memories enveloped her mind with such vibrancy that they stuck her with guilt as Nightwing's plan slowly unfolded before her eyes – the intricate and delicate details falling so deliberately into place with a precision that only the original Boy Wonder could have executed. The years of betrayal, the murder of Artemis, the attack on the Mountain – it was all planned. It was all fake, all necessary. Emotions flowed, intertwined with the images, and Megan's brain was assaulted with emotions – _his emotions – _of regret and unease, of pain and apologies that he would never get to say.

She'd quickly let loose her hold on his mind, but in vain. Megan had watched in silent horror as her leader fell to his knees, his mind broken and silent. His eyes were dull and his spirit wrecked – her big brother nothing but an empty shell.

"_I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." _ She'd whispered frantically into his fragmented consciousness, but only the still of her destruction greeted her. Her leader was gone. He would never hear her, not with how badly she'd damaged him. He'd never forgive her, he couldn't. Her apology was empty in the hollow of his head.

Megan stared numbly at the bare spot on her wall, her knees tucked under her chin and her cape slug over her shoulders like blanket as she ignored Garfield's worried emotions building from behind her locked door. He'd been sitting there for a while, occasionally knocking and trying to draw her out of his room. She had too much to think about though, had so many thoughts running rampant as they tortured her.

"Um, sis? Meg? You okay?" the changeling asked cautiously from the outside as he feebly knocked on the door.

"Fine." She muttered quietly with such finality that the small knocking ceased and she heard Garfield sigh.

"I'll check on you later." He murmured, and she heard his feet pad away.

She'd told him she was fine. She'd always been a fairly competent liar. Obviously not as good as Nightwing though, she thought at herself bitterly as she allowed her thoughts to consume her once again, dragging her off into oblivion.

It was supposed to be simple, the lines of good and bad so clearly defined – until you hit the gray. Until the truth came to render the labels of good and bad so meaningless that the terms seemed foreign. When the line was smudged it was hard to figure out where t that line could ever be, or if the division had ever even existed in the first place – maybe it never had. Maybe the distinction came only from knowledge. Maybe the line of right and wrong was only visible after it was too late to tell the difference. Where black and white had been, only gray remained. Only guilt and sadness. Only pain. Only anger and confusion existed in this world of gray, where lines where blurred and she was lost. So lost in a world.

Suddenly Megan heard knocking on the door, and she frowned as she broke back into reality. How could she face _that_? How could she face her actions? How could they make her? They didn't understand, they didn't know – they were hidden under a veil of ignorance. How she wished she could join them; but she couldn't. She'd been exposed to an ugly truth, had played a part in the imminent destruction; she could feel it. Her actions would be significant in time to come. How could her teammates drag her back into this reality to face that?

"Beast Boy, _leave me alone_." She growled, not meaning to sound as harsh as her grinding tone came roaring out with a steady anger that took even her aback. She didn't correct herself though, hoping the insensitive tone would drive her little brother away.

"Beast Boy is playing football with Jaime and Bart outside." Nightwing's voice floated from beyond the closed door, "We need to talk."

That voice. The voice of the person who had planned and plotted was just outside her door – a person she had trusted, a person who had lied to her face.

Megan felt rage at the sound of his voice – this was _his_ fault. _Nightwing_ had been the one to blur the lines, _he'd_ been the one who hadn't told her – this wasn't her fault, it was_ his._ Using her telepathy, she swung the door open as she turned around, her auburn eyes burning with tears as she glared at Nightwing.

"This is _your fault_!" she hissed.

Her leader frowned, looking so out of place that it struck her; Nightwing never looked as though he didn't belong. Yet, as he stood there, she could feel his unease prickle along his spine and could feel guilt filling his chest. Nightwing scratched his neck awkwardly, his eyes lowering.

"I know."

She expected Nightwing to do deny it, to tell her why he'd been right – she expected him to do _anything_. But he just stood there; his head hung a little low. Without hearing any objection, a new wave of anger claimed her.

"You should have _told me_. You should have! I broke him!" Megan screamed as the acceptance hit her, crushing her beneath its weight, forcing out tears, "I broke him." The Martian gasped, and Dick flinched.

"I know." The acrobat stiffened, and without thinking, Megan fell into his open arms as they hugged.

"I'm sorry." She sobbed. She was _so _sorry. She was. Oh, oh, she was sorry. Pain welled up in her chest and escaped through a thick and ugly moan, and how it _hurt_. How could something hurt this bad? How could it hurt _this bad_? She felt Nightwing pat her, understanding leaking off him like a pungent odor that filled her senses and blinded her as she hugged him tighter; anger melted away and guilt took its place.

"I know," Nightwing sighed, returning her hug in comfort – and for a moment they were young again; they were teammates, they were family. They hadn't been that close in a really long time, so long that the gap felt present even as they hung in the comfort of sharing a burden together.

"Megan," Nightwing said, pulling her away and staring into her eyes with a stern look – a look that years of training under the Bat had given him, "No one can know. Aqualad is down, but Artemis was his right-hand man. As long as she's in, there's hope. Nothing has changed, and nothing can. You know the secret now, and now you have to bear the burden."

Megan wiped at a tear and nodded slowly, "I think I can do that."

Dick nodded, a flat look on his face that bordered between understanding and disappointment, "You can do it. You have to."

"I won't do …_that_…ever again." She whispered sollemly, staring into his eyes.

Nightwing sighed, and started to leave the room before casting one last glance over his shoulder, "Don't make promises you can't keep, M'gann." He said finally, disappearing down the hall.

Megan put herself together, wiping off the tears and banishing the sadness deep into her mind; she had a promise to keep, and so many pieces of herself to put back together again.

Megan Morse had lived in a world of black and white only to be lost in the gray, surrounded by so many little broken pieces of herself that she's lost along the way.

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**Auhotr's Note: ...So yeah. I wish I could tell you where this came from, but hoestly I don't know myself. So, anyway, please review, do a handstand, pet a cat, eat a cookie, contemplate life - whatever. But still, a review would be nice. :)**


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